


Metamorphosis

by nebuleia



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Clem has PTSD, Developing Relationship, F/M, FLUFF I SAID. H A, Future Fic, God Telltale Let Them Live and Be Happy, Gore and Blood Mention, Romantic Fluff, Written Pre-Episodes 2-4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 11:38:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15948584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebuleia/pseuds/nebuleia
Summary: Whatever lies between them, kindled by gentle teasing, fast friendship and flushed cheeks, swells to an expected crest in the thickening woods of a new home.—-In which Louis pines, Clementine heals ever so slightly and the Walkers didn’t sign up for this.





	Metamorphosis

**Author's Note:**

> please give a heads up if you need anything else tagged and I will do so! I hope y’all enjoy! It’s very short and I’m having a hard time with both “voices” as it were but practice makes perfect!
> 
> This was originally supposed to have a kiss but it went way off track ripperino

She's unexpectedly gentle, calloused hands deftly weaving the thick curls into a makeshift, awkwardly curved plait. The uneasy tingling in his fingertips subsides as she retracts her touch, never quite able to abate, not in the world they live in. 

Clementine admires her handiwork, smiling and his stomach flutters. 

"There you go," She grins, "less of it to grab," 

"B-plus effort," Louis teases, nudging her shoulder and laughing when she rolls her eyes. It's a familiar song and dance between them: teasing, prodding and playacting at suave confidence in amongst the interspersed awkwardness of fumbling fingertips and flushed cheeks. 

He isn't ignorant; recalls with a twisting gut stumbling upon more than one instance of soft giggling and flustered excuses in the greenhouse. No, he knows what the warmth burning at his ears is, knew it long ago in the grin softening her mouth, a walker dangling like a morbid pinata between them. 

Known its intimate heat curling down his spine since the sight of Clementine hefting fallen logs away, gaze snagged upon the powerful flex of her strong, if disconcertingly thin frame. 

He can cajole and tease, treasure the moments when their fingers accidentally entwine, but beyond that? Floundering seems to be the only option. 

AJ looks upon it all with mild confusion and a touch of embarrassment (hilarious, given everything else the kid has seen) but primarily disinterest.

Louis risked a bullet to the brain for Clementine long ago. That alone: those few trembling steps to shield her, the storm heaving and thrashing around them, heart hammering at his throat, was enough to earn the little guy’s trust, it seemed.

If he now wants to bluster and blush around her, AJ snorts and lets him have at it, apparently. 

“Walker to your left, behind that tree,” Clem hisses, standing swiftly, blade drawn. 

“Just the one,” Louis grins, giving Chairles an experimental swing. “Your’s or mine?” 

“Your’s and be careful,” 

“Me? Careful is my middle name!” 

The resulting groan only makes him grin harder.

The walker lumbers towards them at the sound, jaw dangling askew by barely a muscular thread as it grumbles sorrowfully. Louis eyes Clementine for a moment, keeping a wary eye for danger, but she’s snapping the neck of a struggling hare snared within one of their traps, all the while keeping an eye on him and _oh_ , butterflies in the battlefield, wonderful. 

She flushes prettily for some inexplicable reason and jerks her chin sternly at him, gesturing to the walker.

And see now, he _could_ just let the unsuspecting fellow shamble into one of their traps but on the other hand, letting loose with the ol batter batter swing technique would take his mind off ...well, everything, for just a few seconds. 

Everything, as in if he wakes up curled against Clementine’s back like an overgrown puppy one more time in addition to tripping over every second word that spills of his tongue, Louis is going to sling off his trench coat and scream into it.

That’s not even touching the whole We Accidentally Held Hands While Walking incident that neither ever brought up. 

Was it weird to be thinking about something like - 

Ah, missed the hit zone now. Heads rolling time it was then! 

" _Louis_! What’re you waiting for?” 

“I’m going!” 

One clean swing dazed the poor bastard, the sickening crunch of rotting flesh echoing in the relative silence. It took into two more heavy swings till it stopped growling and once more for good measure.

It would’ve been beyond sickening to him a decade ago, spilling blood and brains upon the school’s front lawn, burying friends and burning bodies.

He’s still alive, though. Still kicking walker ass with more friends than foes after all this shit, and that’s worth a lot. 

“What were you doing?”

Louis winced at the feeling of fingers gripping at his biceps, yelping when Clementine shook him, hard, expression wild.

”What the _fuck_ , Louis. If you’re...if you’re giving up or something, I’ll drag you back to Ericson’s myself!” She yelled, trembling violently, seemingly utterly uncaring the distant groan of interested dead. 

“I’ll drag you on the fucking _ground_ if I have to,” She hissed, expression an amalgamation of untold agonies that he still isn’t truly privy to, wincing as she stabs a finger to his chest, shuddering. “I’m not letting anyone else - !” 

“Clem, slow down! What the hell are you talking about?”

Louis doesn’t know where to begin with the blazing anger and flounders further when it falters, swallowed up by an ocean of grief, brimming in her eyes.

Clementine rarely weeps, stifles grief instead into steeled resolve; it makes him want to cry. Her strength is to be prided, but not at this cost. 

He doesn’t think but for the distant hope that this doesn’t upset her further, before gently reaching out and tucking her head under his chin, touch light and hesitant, prepared to step back.

“I don’t know what’s wrong, not really,” He fumbles, tongue like lead in his mouth, “but it’s okay, I’m okay,” 

Clementine inhales shakily and doesn’t speak, awkwardly stiff in his arms. He lingers for a moment longer before drawing away, only to be stopped as she winds her arms around him,  no longer trembling. 

“Please don’t ask me,” she whispers, and there’s something like an apology there, curled in crevices between the shame and anger.

Louis shakes his head absently, knowing that she can’t really see it anyways.

“I won’t,” He reassures, swallowing down the lump in his throat, “But if you...if you ever want to talk, I’m here,”

Clementine only hugs him tighter, exhales once, twice, before nodding.

**Author's Note:**

> I love you endlessly for any kudos or comments you would like to bestow upon me <3


End file.
